


session four

by DefaultJane, fishbone76



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Drama, Literature, Multi, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishbone76/pseuds/fishbone76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post ME2. This plays about 1-2 weeks after the grounding of Commander Shepard.<br/>Shepard doesn’t want to be here. But unless she wants to end up in jail or extradited to the Batarian Hegemony, she has to be here.<br/>She doesn't have the time for this crap. The only way of getting through this is pretending to be okay, telling the doctor what she wants to hear, finding a way to convince the doctor that her PTSD is manageable, that she can shake it off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	session four

**Author's Note:**

> Captain Fishy presents a [fishbone76](http://fishbone76.deviantart.com) and [DefaultJane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/profile) production. 
> 
> Post ME2. This plays about 1-2 weeks after the grounding of Commander Shepard.

                                                                                    

“How are you feeling today, Commander?”

_ Fucking tired of this bullshit. _  “I’m fine.”

Shepard doesn’t want to be here. But unless she wants to end up in jail or extradited to the Batarian Hegemony, she has to be here. Had she known before what awaited for her when returning to the Alliance she would have taken Jack’s offer of becoming space pirates in a heartbeat. 

Doctor Aulin's somewhat exasperated sigh is barely audible. When she speaks, however, her voice is soft and understanding. Shepard wonders if it's always like that or if it's something only years of training bring about in a person. She wonders if the doctor is as patient and soft at home.

"Shepard, I can not repeat this often enough; I'm not your enemy. I am here for you, I am here to help you understand what keeps you up at night. I am here to help you find a way to deal with what happened and come to terms with it. My goal is only to help you find your inner peace again. I am not here to spy on you or to declare you unfit for duty."

“I know the Alliance send you to check if I’m under the control of Cerberus.”

“That is not true, Commander.”

“I’m fine.”

Aulin taps some notes into her datapad before looking back up. She waits patiently, giving Shepard time to open up. She leans forward in a casual manner, offering an assuring soft smile, her entire being radiating with acceptance. A silent way of telling the Commander that this is a safe place. The Commander remains mute.

As she waits for a small miracle, the doctor's blue eyes wander to the black hoodie resting next to the Commander's thigh.

                                                                                   

Shepard focuses her gaze elsewhere, studies the pattern of the floor with needless intensity. She remembers how reluctant Lt. Zabaleta had been when she'd told him to seek help for his PTSD. The irony of her inability to accept help for the same problem is bordering on epic proportions.

“Let's talk about Kelly Chambers.”

Shepard finally looks up, stiffening involuntarily but visibly as she locks her eyes with the woman in front of her.

“Why?”

"When you spoke of her during our last session I got the impression that she was important to you. Was I wrong?" the doctor asks, already knowing she hadn't been wrong. Already knowing that it takes a lot to rattle Shepard's cage, knowing that this was something that needed to be pursued. Shepard's reaction now alone speaks volumes of the importance of Kelly Chambers.

Even Shepard has to admit the woman is good but that alone isn't enough to convince her that the doctor is trustworthy. Frankly, Shepard would rather be having this conversation with someone she already knows. Or someone like Doctor Chakwas perhaps... even if she isn't a shrink. 

Any other day she would've turned to her mother who'd always listened to her, knowing when to simply lend an ear and when to offer solutions to her problems. But not today. Really, Shepard feels like she needs a friend, not a doctor. But how do you cry on someone's shoulder when you're supposed to be the shoulder yourself? The shoulder for her friends, her crew... the entire damn galaxy?

With the mere mention of Kelly and without Shepard's permission, the scene mercilessly begins to unfold in her mind's eye. Kelly frantically slamming her fists against the transparent lid of the pod. The horror and panic in her eyes when her skin begins to melt away. The screams. Oh Lord, the screams of fear shifting into desperate wails of pain unlike anything Shepard had ever heard before. The overwhelming feeling of helpnessness when all Shepard had been able to do was to stand there watching Kelly's body liquify in front of her.The taste of vomit spreads in Shepard’s mouth even now when she recalls throwing up after witnessing Kelly's death, after seeing the goo that had once been Kelly.The body of this lovely young woman she had cared for, had touched, had made love to just the night before.

In the worst nightmares, Shepard is back in her bed with Kelly doing just that. Kelly's back arching and her thighs tensing in that specific way a woman's do when experiencing pleasure bordering on unbearable. A little death with a hint of precious pain... mutating into a scene of her locked into torment. Her body falling apart, liquifying as she straddles Shepard and, insanely, offers to feed her fish for her.

Kelly died a cruel death and Shepard couldn't see how she would've been able to blame it on anyone other than herself. She hadn't gotten there in time. She hadn't been strong enough to save her.

"It doesn't matter anymore, she's gone. Let the ghosts rest," Shepard says, managing to keep her voice surprisingly bland considering the dark thoughts wrapping themselves around her mind.

Aulin studies the Commander for a moment, removes her leg from over the other and leans back  in her chair. "Denying what happened won't take the pain of it away, Commander. On the contrary."

Sighing in exasperation, Shepard runs both hands over her face tiredly, her features distorting a little as the skin bends under the calloused palms. She doesn't have the time for this crap. The only way of getting through this is pretending to be okay, telling the doctor what she wants to hear, finding a way to convince the doctor that her PTSD is manageable, that she can shake it off. Tic-tic-tic, time is running out and she shouldn't be sitting here wasting it. She should be out there, figuring some way to convince the Alliance brass that the Reapers are not just something a child imagined living under their bed. The threat is imminent and nobody of the millions of ignorants she is desperately trying to save are willing to listen to her. It was a lonely place to be at. Shepard wished more people were like Anderson.

"I'm not denying what happened or its effects on me; we both know it left a mark, but that's what I signed up for. I can handle it. I'm just tired. Some sleeping pills would go a long way helping with the tiredness," Shepard suggests, hoping to be able to get away by admitting she wasn't completely unbreakable.

“Nightmares again?”

_Oh fuck! Think before you open up your mouth._ “No,” Shepard mumbles.

What a stupid question to ask. Aside from not having enough hours in a day, what else would it be but nightmares? Why couldn't Aulin just take what was given and leave the rest alone? She was good, but she wasn't good enough to fix all the shattered things within Shepard. At least not with the time they had to spare .

“Did you dream about dying again?” 

Yes. Lately it seemed everything revolved around death. If not her own, then the death of her loved ones. And to come back from the dead only to have everyone and their mother blame her for having had the audacity of dying and leaving them to fend for themselves wasn't helping either. She'd already died for them once, proven them all wrong once and nothing had changed. What the fucking hell would it take?

"I'm a bit preoccupied with the weight of the galaxy resting on my shoulders," Shepard responds sarcastically.

"But it's-" the doctor begins but Shepard isn't interested in hearing the rest.

"I feel like a damn mad prophet, only when I preach the end of existence as we know it, I am actually right!" she spits, stands up furiously as she is unable to keep her volume down and the anger hidden away anymore. All she'd done for everyone... and all for fucking what? So that she could sit here, faking to be okay when she wasn't, keep running on fumes and telling herself she'd rest once she'd saved everyone?

Everyone? No, not everyone. It was already too late for many... too late for Kelly.Too late for Garrus… and too late for the three hundred thousand Batarians.

While Aulin stays as calm as ever, the tiny understanding smile on her lips turns into a tight, neutral line. Without a word, she bows her head a little and taps into her datapad again.

Shepard inhales deeply in an attempt to calm down, mentally telling herself not to let her feelings get the better of her. People make mistakes when they're angry, and when it comes to feelings of anger... even the great Commander isn't immune to making mistakes in the heat of the moment. She'd already given the psychologist more ammo than she should've.

                                                                                          

Standing with her back to the doctor, Shepard stares out of the wide window. As she is absently glancing over the Vancouver skyline, her mind wanders back to yesterday.

It had taken her mother a week's worth of tedious arguments with Alliance officials and the help of an entire legal team to finally get access to her detained daughter. And for what? Only to back away in shock and horror when she'd seen what Cerberus had made of her. It hurt. Her mother's words had hurt even more than the look on her face, had thrown copious amounts of salt into the festering wounds and eagerly rubbed it in for good measure.

_ This is not the daughter I raised. _

_  
_

_ My child would never do this. _

_  
_

_ You are not my daughter! You're... I don't know what you are anymore. _

Shepard tries to push the painful memory away, shove it into the darkest corner of the furthest part of her mind and lock it away... but it still festers. Bubbling beneath the surface, poisoning her within like an infection. Her mother was all the family she had left, her mother and uncle Davi (yes, Davi, as she'd called Anderson when she'd been just little Jane, not the notorious Commander Shepard she was now). But now she felt like she'd lost them. Her mother had all but called her a monster to her face and Anderson could no longer be her uncle Davi. He had his hands full trying to keep pulling the few strings there were left to pull to keep Shepard from being locked up for good.

"Commander, have you ever noticed that you're always already on edge before we even begin our sessions?" the doctor inquires, waking Shepard from the painful memory she'd been reliving silently. Shepard swivels around, removing her hands from her hips to hold them up in the air in a surrendering gesture before letting them fall to limply hang against her sides.

"I'm on edge because I don't have the time for this nonsense!"

The doctor taps more notes into her datapad and Shepard sighs impatiently, slumping down in her seat, her demeanor similar to an agitated child's.

"Do you have any morning rituals? What's the first thing you do after you wake up?" the doctor asks then. Shepard quirks an eyebrow at the odd question.

"I take a piss," she responds, smirking at the flabbergasted expression that slowly spreads on the doctor's face when the Commander's words register. "Then I have some coffee, workout, take a shower, brush my teeth-"

"Stop," doctor Aulin interrupts gently, "Can you look in the mirror? Can you look at yourself?" she continues, gesturing at her own face to emphasize her point and to keep Shepard from pretending to be the dense patient, silently adding the obvious question about the scars.  _ Do they disturb you? _

Shepard's eyes harden as the black tentacles of hurt begin to crawl out from the chest she'd locked them into earlier. The hurt her mother's words had brought upon her.

_ You're not my daughter anymore _ echoes in Shepard's mind and the darkness breaks free, spreading, infecting.

Doctor Aulin looks down from Shepard's face, lets her gaze shamelessly rake over the Commander's sternum and along her bare arms. Most of the Lazarus scars (as Miranda had almost lovingly referred to them as) were prominent on Shepard's face, but there were fainter ones all over her body. Since her grounding, the scars had increased visibly and rapidly.

Shepard was glad the Alliance brass trusted Doctor Chakwas enough to deem her medical report sufficient. According to it, the Lazarus scars were merely a cosmetic issue, a simple and understandable side-effect of Shepard's body trying to adjust to the implants that had been necessary to resurrect Shepard in the first place. If it hadn't been for Chakwas's undoubtedly candycoated medical report, Shepard would've probably had to undergo another medical examination. She didn't even want to think what kind of unnecessary medical procedures the curious scientists would've imposed upon her had they been given the slightest reason to study her. Of course, they would've needed to sedate her to get anywhere near her, but still. She didn't think they would've needed her conscious to satisfy their curiosity.

Shepard realizes Doctor Aulin is still looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response.  _ Do they disturb you? _ the unspoken question hangs in the air between them, echoing loudly despite never been  actually voiced out loud. Yes, they disturb her. She can't look into the mirror without a daily reminder of the fact that Cerberus took away thirty percent of her humanity and replaced it with synthetics. It doesn’t matter that it had all been to bring her back, the ends should've justified the means and the fact that she was alive now should've been all that mattered... but it wasn't. Apart from her brain and a few pieces of flesh and bone, this wasn't her body. Her body, the original one, had been nothing but a mess, at least that was what Jacob had told her.

_ “What are you doing here? I thought you were still a work in progress?” _

_  
_

_ “Look, pal, I dunno where I’m or how I got here. Plus, my head feels like an overripe melon ready to split open. How ‘bout you fill me in a little?” _

_  
_

_ “Our scientists spent the last two years putting you back together. You’ve been comatose, or worse, that whole time.” _

_  
_

_ “You said they spent two years rebuilding me? How bad where my injuries?” _

_  
_

_ “I’m no doctor, but it was bad. Miranda said there was nothing but pieces of burnt flesh. When I first saw you, you were nothing but meat and tubes.”  _

_  
_

_ Meat and tubes. Like some damn grotesque meatloaf. Do they disturb me? How the hell could they not? _

"I'm still me, I just have a few extra bits and pieces now," Shepard finally answers the Doctor and proceeds to theatrically flex her muscles. Doctor Aulin doesn't seem impressed, at least not by Shepard's nonchalant act. Knowing she'd need to give more, Shepard gives in and offers a more serious response.

"If they would disturb me, don't you think I'd try to hide them rather than walk around in a tanktop that reveals everything?"

That seems to be enough to convince the Doctor for now at least and the small friendly smile returns to her lips as she taps into her datapad once more.

"I think we made good progress today-" she begins to say, looking back up, but a chirp from her omnitool interrupts her.  “Confab time is over for today.”

_Thank god_.   “What a bummer! And I was just getting warm and ready to pour my heart out to you," Shepard chirps sarcastically as she stands up and slips into her hoodie, obviously eager to leave the room.

"You can do that in two days from now when we have our next session," the Doctor smirks, completely aware of how much Shepard dislikes being here.

"Same place, same time," she says then, extending her arm for a brief handshake to say goodbye.

"Aye-aye," Shepard offers a half-hearted salute and the Doctor responds with a genuine smile as she hands over the sleeping pills.

Aulin escorts Shepard to the door. 

As the door opens and reveals Doctor Aulin and the Commander, Lt. Vega jumps into a salute, “Commander!”

Obviously the Brass thought she needs a personal guard dog in the form of a mountain who makes sure she doesn’t escape during the short walks from her cozy cell to wherever she had to attend to. The man could pass for a krogan if he wanted to but his impressive form is in contrast with his nature. Shepard is almost tempted to make an escape attempt just to see if he’d actually try to stop her or if he’d obediently follow her order not to. She supposes he would perform his duty to whoever it had been who’d ordered him to watch over her.

                                                                                

“Stop calling me that, James. I’m on a timed suspension, remember?”

“Aye ma’am.”

Shepard cringes at that. She sounds almost grossed out when she rolls her eyes and sighs, “Also stop calling me that.”

“Um, all right but-” James begins to mutter.

“Just. Shepard.”


End file.
